Flight School
by equalsMCsquare
Summary: Harry insists on brief periods of no magic for himself and Draco. Draco faces a new adventure... flying across the country? In a... muggle contraption! Say it isn't so. Airport shenanigans.


"Infernal muggle contraptions," Draco growled.

Harry chuckled softly into the phone.

"You'll be fine, Malfoy," he reassured the frazzled, scowling blond.

"Easy for you to say," muttered the blond in question, before snapping his phone shut. His retro flip phone earned him some definitely worried looks… but the polished blond didn't really _look_ like someone who'd need a drop phone—right? In any case, his glared effectively discouraged onlookers. If they thought his travel attire was strange, nothing was said.

Draco looked exasperatedly up at the busy sign, complete with wordless symbols (though, who wasn't literate in at least one of the 5 translations available, he couldn't tell you). His look of frustration morphed into a melodramatic pout of despair as he realized he didn't know what his next step was.

He picked up his phone again.

"Hello?"

"Where do I go now?" This was not the time for niceties, if you asked Draco. Not that he employed them frequently anyways.

There was that laugh again. Draco vowed to hex the smug half-blood when he next saw him.

"Well, that depends."

"On what?"

"Where you currently are, of course."

Draco looked around himself.

"Roughly 10 yards from where we last spoke from."

The laugh came through the phone again, a bit stronger. Potter was growing more confident in his mirth. How dare he!

"The signs in an airport are very clear, Draco darling. You just have to read them and follow the arrows."

"Yes, but which terminal am I going to?"

"Check your ticket."

Draco looked. Update: he was still confused.

"Right…"

"Do you see the gate number? It should have a letter on it. Like, gate S1 or B12, whatever."

"It appears that my flight is at gate C7."

"Right. Good detective work. Now you follow the signs, take the trains, ask for directions, etc. till you get to the C gates, then locate number 7. You're not to call me till you're sitting in your terminal!"

Draco thought that his amused partner would hardly be able to verify where he was when he called, and given how lost he felt, surely the time pass would be believable.

"Right. Talk to you soon then."

The phone snapped shut again.

As if security wasn't trouble enough, Draco groused mentally, he was now in a veritable _maze_. They had the audacity to have him remove his dragon-hide boots and belt, each embossed with the Malfoy seal. Oh, if Narcissa just knew that they were sitting on a muggle assembly line as her son walked barefoot through archaic beepers, only to be groped by a "security" man who narrowly escaped being wandlessly melted… It was simply too much, Draco sighed a world –wearied sigh.

Draco finally wound his way to a seat in terminal C7. Harry had insisted he leave so early for the airport, it was no wonder the terminal was sitting nearly empty.

His phone beeped and he looked down, expecting a text from Harry. Alarmed, he realized it was the low-battery alert.

Blast, could this really be happening? How does anything get done in the muggle world if everything is attached to a power source, either permanently or cyclically? Absolutely absurd and inefficient, Draco concluded.

The sight of Draco rummaging through his bag for the wire would've been odd indeed if anyone had been near enough to witness it. Such a strange glimmer to that cloak… and what an odd sparkly liquid, in that dragon shaped bottle…

Eventually he located the tangled wire. He looked around for a power source, and was exasperated to find that he'd be sitting on the ground with his back to the wall, if he wanted to use his phone while it charged, which he certainly did. It was his only tie to civilization, as far as he was concerned.

 _Made it_ , said the text to Potter.

 _Good work. See, I told you that living without magic for a time could be fun._

 _FUN?!_

There was a pause here. Followed by two pings in quick succession

 _Heh. I suppose you're right._

 _For what it's worth, thank you for humoring me. I love you. Safe flight, try to chit chat with the travelers around you._

Draco glanced around uneasily. Harry could make him live like a muggle for a month with his pouty expression and long-winded explanations about "empathy" and "relating to each other's pasts," but he drew the line at befriending strange muggles.

He checked the time briefly before noticing he had roughly 2 hours before takeoff was scheduled. Harry had warned him that delays and such were common, but he prayed to Merlin that wouldn't be the case. Then one short flight to London and he'd be with Harry.

The thought cheered Draco up. It'd only been a few days for a business trip, but he already missed Harry. At Harry's cajoling, he was making this one leg of the trip in muggle fashion.

 _Granger._

 _What?_

 _Truly I did not understand the magnitude of the ineptitude that would be required to allow travel without magic._

 _So you've arrived in London, then?_

 _Not quite. In terminal at the airport nearest Hogsmeade._

 _So you haven't even flown yet? Oh, you're in for a treat._

 _Lovely._

 _Ronald send his regards and hopes that you will fill him in on your horrible adventures._

 _More to look forward to._

 _He's hoping I won't pull the same tricks on him as Harry has pulled on you. So far, Disney movies and some muggle cooking has wised him up to how the rest of the world lives._

 _Potter always gets his way._

 _You knew what you signed up for, Malfoy. Give my love to Harry._

Harry had at least done Draco the courtesy of a first-class ticket. He boarded early, his bag hitting every seat and wall, but thankfully, no people.

He stared appalled at the "luxury class" seating in front of him. They'd still be packed like sardines, and it looked like he'd be upright the whole time.

 _Surely I can talk myself to a backrub when I arrive,_ Draco consoled himself.

He took his seat and waited.

 _Despite nearly having a panic attack and apparating myself out of mid air when the safety procedures were outlined, the event was fairly…uneventful. Do they really plan for all those horrible catastrophes on every single flight? How does one relax like that?_

 _It's supposed to be reassuring, believe it or not. How did it feel?_

 _Sort of like portkeying or apparating, at least during ascent and descent. For people not naturally flying, they have, dare I say, made it more comfortable than most wizarding world flying implements. I mean, straddling a broom and flying in the rain is a sport, but hardly a form of transportation._

 _What a generous concession Malfoy._

 _I am known to be benevolent._

 _Let me know when you get your luggage from the baggage claim. Then just exit the building, and let me know what letters you're near._

 _Letters?_

 _Each pick up spot has letters to help drivers pick up their fares. I'll see you soon._

 _Drivers?_

There was no response. Draco cursed. He supposed Harry was planning to actually drive them around London. In a car. Drive. In. London.

He sighed for the hundredth time this trip.

The Heathrow airport was much more bustling than the one Draco had checked into up North. He was glad at least he was just exiting from this one; he couldn't imagine going through that security line and navigating this ginormous airport.

Once he found his luggage carousel, after some undignified chasing to get his bag, Malfoy was on the road again. The exits were near the baggage claims, and the numbers were easy to see.

 _I see you._


End file.
